Cold Comfort
by beesandbrews
Summary: A coda to "Captain Jack Harkness". Jack rejects Ianto in favor of dwelling on the past. Ianto looks for answers from Toshiko.


Author's Notes: A semi-sequel to "All Tied Up" and "Ties that Bind". Who knew one notion would lead to a series? Thanks to **scifichicx** and **snakewhissperer** for the nudge.

* * *

><p>The Hub door rolled shut with a metallic bang signaling Toshiko's departure. Ianto waited a couple of minutes, shuffling nervously from foot to foot, before approaching Jack's office.<p>

He knocked. The captain was at his desk, whisky decanter at his elbow, a glass raised halfway to his lips. Jack downed the shot before waving him in. When he looked up he smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Is there anything I can do, sir?" He took a step forward one arm extended toward the carafe. Jack stayed him with a nod of his head.

"Go home, Ianto." Jack's voice was weary. "I'm lousy company tonight."

Ianto took another step forward, closing the gap between them. He meant only to comfort, but Jack flinched as his hand came down to rest on his shoulder. "I mean it." _Don't argue,_ his body language said, _you won't like it if you do_. And then for just a moment, the hard eyes softened. "I'm sorry, please, just go."

Ianto swallowed and a muscle in his cheek jumped. Whatever had happened at the Ritz had affected the captain badly. "You can call me if you change your mind," he said, knowing full well, barring apocalypse, his phone would be silent.

* * *

><p>On the drive home, Ianto remained unsettled. Jack's dismissal plagued his thoughts. Yielding to a sudden impulse, he tapped the speed dial.<p>

A moment later, Toshiko's voice answered, "Ianto?"

"Up for some company?" he inquired by way of greeting. "I could pick up some take-away, if you haven't eaten yet." Anticipating her response, he took the turning towards her flat.

"Actually, they've just delivered." Before he could take it as a 'no' she added, "I really over-ordered. There's more than enough for two."

"See you in a few, then." He cut the connection and felt his mood lighten. He'd come to enjoy down-time with Toshiko. She had become his mentor and occasional sparring partner, and it was clear that she enjoyed his companionship.

* * *

><p>It was some little while later. The remains of a Chinese take-away and an empty bottle of white wine had been relegated to the bins. The plates were washed and put neatly away.<p>

Toshiko had broken out a bottle of vintage cognac, the only thing that seemed appropriate to the tale of her bizarre interlude in the 1940's. The bottle rested on the coffee table between them. Ianto had shed his jacket and shoes and loosened his tie. He was sitting forward in a listening pose as Tosh poured them each another generous measure, and continued to relate her story.

"So there's Jack, introducing me to the real Jack Harkness, and it's so clear that they're both completely smitten." Toshiko was slightly breathless, awe at the experience colouring her voice.

"Smitten," Ianto parroted dully. He reached for his glass and drained it at one go.

"Definitely," she affirmed. "That kiss was the saddest thing I've ever seen. All that – " Words failed her and she contemplated her brandy, remembering.

Ianto sunk against the cushions feeling gutted. He wasn't sure why. Jack had never promised him fidelity. They weren't even in a proper relationship, at least not in the way his provincial 21st century upbringing dictated. But he thought that they'd had something. No wonder Jack had shunned his company. He wanted to be alone with the memory of his love that never was. "Oh, Jack," he muttered softly.

"Ianto?" Toshiko touched his arm, her concern evident. "What's the matter?"

"Why do we do it, Tosh?" Drink and companionship had lowered Ianto's inhibitions, his unguarded thoughts poured from him in a rush. "We wait so patiently for love and if we do find it it's either unattainable or snatched away."

Toshiko's hair had come loose. He reached out and brushed ebony tresses away from her face. The skin under his fingers was soft, nothing like Jack's, and different from his memories of Lisa.

Her eyes went wide as his hand slipped down to stroke her cheek, then fluttered to close as he gathered her in and kissed her softly.

"Ianto-" she began as they broke apart.

"No, you're right," Instinctively knowing it was a bad idea and not caring, he re-captured her lips. She tasted of brandy and the meal they shared, and something warm and uniquely Toshiko as her mouth opened to him and they deepened the kiss.

Toshiko thought of fleetingly of Mary, who had rocked her world and Owen. Owen, always on the pull, who couldn't see what was right in front of him. And now, holding her close; desperate for comfort, Ianto grieved still for his Lisa. It was funny how Jack's loss had brought that all bubbling to the surface.

"Ianto," she murmured, even as she allowed herself to be gathered close. As she raked her fingers through his hair and tugged at his shirt tails freeing them so that she could run her hands over the muscles of his back. As his hands caressed her hips and found their way under her skirt "we shouldn't do this."

He broke away, his breath ragged. "Why?"

Toshiko ignored the fire in her body and yielded to the relentless logic her mind forced her to accept. "Because, it's not us," she said as she slowly disentangled her hand from underneath his shirt. "Because, it's not really me you want." She stood and stepped away allowing distance to help cool their ardour. "And because I want you as my friend." She offered him a sad smile. "I know you're hurting, Ianto, but this isn't the solution."

Ianto ran a hand through his hair. He looked away avoiding her gaze, ashamed of his conduct. "I'm sorry." He stood and straightened his dishevelled shirt. "Excuse me." He escaped into the bathroom to collect himself.

Toshiko poured two final measures of cognac and put the bottle away. When Ianto returned a few minutes later, he looked subdued. Toshiko handed him his glass. He stared down at it seeking answers she couldn't give. "Friends," he said, tentatively meeting her eyes at last. He touched his glass to hers.

"Always," Toshiko affirmed. She emptied her glass, confiscated his car keys and called a taxi.

When the cab arrived to take him home, the goodnight kiss he gave her was chaste. Toshiko knew whatever had happened between them had passed; a coda to her strange and troubling day.

End


End file.
